


Here Until Spring

by melancholyMisfit



Series: Temporary Shelter [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bone Brothers - Freeform, Homelessness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1523525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholyMisfit/pseuds/melancholyMisfit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufioh has to decide between leaving Kurloz outside to brave the oncoming winter months, or let him stay on his couch until spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Until Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this second part out! I needed a break and this is what pulled me out of hiatus. This is only part two! This is not the end! When I said this was going to be longer than other requests, I meant it. I’m just kind of running with this idea. Hopefully you’re still enjoying it! I’ll try to get the next part out faster.  
> Once again, this is for Little-Lost-Highblood!

When you open your eyes the first thing you see is messy black hair framing a worried expression. You don’t recognize him so the first thought that crosses your mind is, “Where am I?” Well you’re pretty sure that’s your dresser behind him so the best guess is you’re in your room. Then who is he and why is he in your bedroom leaning over you while you sleep? You’re still barely awake and your brain feels like mush being sifted through a colander with pin sized holes. You sit up quickly and stare at him. A strange person you don’t recognize standing over you while you sleep is a big flashing neon sign that maybe you shouldn’t just be lying there at his mercy. He gives you a curious look like you’re probably overreacting or at least not reacting the way he’d expected you to. You try to remember who he is and why he’s here. It all trickles back slowly. Very, very slowly. Damara, bar, bus stop, car, Kurloz. Right. He’s Kurloz, the guy you picked up off the street last night.

When you turn back to him you see the notebook in his outstretched hand. He’s holding it out to you expectantly and you’re confused until you remember that he can’t talk. That’s kind of a big thing to just forget, but then again you’d forgotten who he even was a second ago. You rub your sleep blurred eyes and blindly reach for the notebook. He presses the cold metal spiral into your palm and you try to focus on the letters that are swimming on the page.

_“Your alarm kept going off but you weren’t waking up. I was worried you were going to be late for something. Sorry if I was wrong.”_

Your alarm? Your alarm! Work!

You grab your phone and sure enough it’s almost eight. You have thirteen minutes to get dressed and to work before you’re late. You jump out of bed and nearly fall flat on your face when your feet get tangled in the sheets. You stumble to your dresser and grab some jeans you hope are suitable for work and hop over to your closet while you try to put your other leg into your pants and walk simultaneously. You’re in too much of a rush now to stop. You grab one of your white button ups and put it on over the shirt you slept in. Kurloz has been watching you and follows you out into the living room and watches you through the open bathroom door. You don’t have time to do much with your hair so you quickly run a comb through it and cringe at how flat it is. You brush your teeth, put on your deodorant and button up your shirt.

When you stop in the living room to put your shoes on, you’re suddenly aware that you haven’t said a word to Kurloz. You spare a quick glance to make sure he’s still standing there.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run to work. I’m about to be late. You can hang around here. Same as last night, help yourself to anything you need. You can borrow some clothes if you need to. I get off at two. Don’t worry about leaving any time soon. Stay as long as you need.”

With your shoes now secured on your feet you run back to the bedroom to grab your phone then head to the door. While you put on your coat he goes back to sitting on the couch. He’d paused the movie he’d been watching. It looks like Iron Man. He seems to be back into watching it. You grab your keys, do a once over to make sure you have everything then head out the door. You hesitate before you close the door and poke your head back in.

“Um, Kurloz?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows to show he’s listening. “Thanks for waking me.”

He smiles and nods. Man he has a nice smile. You quickly leave before you end up staring at him and making yourself even later. You jump over stairs on your way down. You now only have six minutes to get there on time. By the time you get to your car you only have four minutes. You pull out of your spot and onto the mostly empty street. Three minutes. You’ll never make it on time. Of course you catch every red light on the way and by the time you’re getting out of your car it’s five past eight. You try to sneak in through the back door before she notices that you’re late. Maybe she’ll just think you were in the back getting ready. No such luck. The second the door closes you hear her call out.

“Late again, Rufioh?” she asks from the front room.

You quickly shove your things in your cubby and grab your apron before heading out to the counter. She’s putting fresh cookies in the display case. How had she known you’d just come in? The woman has eyes in the back of her head. Or super hearing.

“Sorry Jane. I kind of had a long night.” You say, tying your apron and moving to the cupcake display to finish putting them out.

“Getting drunk on a work night is no excuse.”

“I told you I wouldn’t do that again. One work day with a hangover is enough. I will never puke in that bathroom again.”

“So you say.”

“I promise I didn’t drink last night. I just, um, took on a house guest.”

“Is your brother in town again?”

“No, not Tav.”

“Who then? Another relative?”

“Uh, no. He’s um, a friend I guess. I mean I just met him last night.”

She stops what she’s doing and turns to you, eyebrows raised, curious quirk to her lips.

“Oh?”

“He didn’t have anywhere to go and it was really cold last night and it will only get colder. I just felt bad so I let him crash on my couch.”

“Rufioh Nitram, do you know how dangerous that was? He could have been a murderer or a thief. What if you had woken up in your bathtub without a kidney?”

“Yea I know, I thought about all of that, but we made a no murder pact.”

“A what?”

“We promised not to kill each other while the other was sleeping.”

“And you just took his word for it?”

“Well, I’m still alive aren’t I?”

She sighs and gets back to her work, shaking her head. “Where is he now?”

“Probably at my apartment still. I told him stay as long as he needs.”

“You really aren’t worried that he’ll steal all of your belongings while you’re out?”

“Not really. I probably won’t be too mad if he does. I don’t really have anything that can’t be replaced and he probably needs it more than I do.”

“Sometimes I believe you’re too kind. Just be careful, alright?”

“I will.”

Before either of you can say more the bell above the door chimes as a customer walks in. You move to the cash register to help them while Jane goes to the kitchen to check on the sweets that are still baking. The rest of the morning goes rather smoothly. Jane gets to the shop early in the morning and bakes everything fresh. Every day she takes the remainder of what doesn’t sell to the homeless shelters. You’d always thought that was a nice thing for her to do but now all you can think of is someone like Kurloz. You wonder if he’d be happy to get a cupcake.

The bakery is small but quite popular so it’s rare to go ten minutes without at least one customer. It keeps you busy. At 12:30 Jane gives you the go ahead to take your break. She’d given you a muffin earlier since you’d skipped breakfast but you’re still glad for the lunch break. It’s just you and Jane in the mornings, Latula comes in at one and Meenah is in and out with deliveries all day. You’d met Jane through your friend Dirk two years ago. She’d needed help running the bakery and you needed a way to pay rent and get off of Dirk’s couch so she’d hired you. She’s a few years older than you and has become like a big sister to you. She worries a lot and scolds you sometimes but she’s only looking out for you. You lived on a farm until you were twenty and decided to go away for college. Being without your family was a little difficult at first but Jane made it easier.

When you get to the back room you find your phone is flashing with a new alert. There are six new texts all from Meulin. Oh crap! Meulin! You’d texted her last night.

(=^ω^=) < _HEY, SORRY I DIDN’T HEAR MY PHONE LAST NIGHT_

(=^ω^=) < _H33H33 GET IT?_

(^•o•^) < _OH WAIT, ARE YOU OK? YOU DIDN’T GET MURDERED RIGHT?_

(^•ω•^) < _IS IT COOL IF I COME OFUR?_

(=；ェ；=) < _LIKE, IF YOU’RE NOT DEAD_

(^•ω•^) < _YOU’RE NOT RESPONDING BUT YOU MIGHT JUST BE AT WORK. I’M COMING OFUR ANYWAY._

Crap, crap, crap. At least she doesn’t appear to be worried. She probably figured you were overreacting. You quickly type a response to her.

_sorry doll… 1 forgot to text you th1s morn1ng… everyth1ng 1s f1ne… we can hang when 1 get off work }:)_

She usually takes a long time to text back so you put your phone back in your cubby and sit at the table with the sandwich Jane made for you and a bottle of water. While you eat you let your thoughts wander back to Kurloz. You wonder if he’s still there or if he’s decided to leave. You wonder if he’d go back to the bus stop or if he’d go somewhere else. While the invitation was originally just for one night you really wouldn’t mind if he stayed a bit longer. It’s nice knowing that there’s another person in the apartment. Even if you haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours.

You’ve just finished eating when Jane pokes her head around the corner and asks you to come back to the counter. There’s a crowd coming in and she has pastries to check on and decorate. When you get out there you feel bad for taking your break when you did. You’re running low on cupcakes, there’s no more blueberry pie, and the banana bread and cookies are almost gone. A rush must have come in while you were eating. She always does this. It doesn’t matter how hectic things are getting she won’t call you back out until you’ve completely eaten your lunch.

Just as she’d said, the late lunch crowd from the high school and local businesses starts to pour in shortly after you take your place at the counter. Keeping up with orders isn’t too difficult. You’ve been doing this long enough to know where everything is (it doesn’t change much) and the displays are set up so that customers can see what’s left before they reach the register to place their order. You move as quickly as you can, only slowed by customers taking too long to pay, being unable to decide what they want, complaining that what they came for was all gone and asking if they can just wait for it to come out.

“I don’t think you understand young man, I have to get back to work! My job is very important! Much more important than…well…” the woman in a royal blue pantsuit gestured to the whole of the bakery with a smug smile. “I came here specifically for my cup of afternoon coffee and a double chocolate muffin and I’m not leaving without one.”

“I understand but the muffins have just gone into the oven. It will be at least eight minutes before they’re done and another two before they’re cool enough to wrap up. If you’d like to step out of line I can let you know when they’re ready.”

“You expect me to step out of line? For what? These hooligans waiting behind me?” She huffs.

You catch the faces of the three teenagers behind her grimacing at her words. It’s one thing for rude customers to insult you and your place of business but it’s another to attack innocent customers. Stay calm Rufioh, you think, she’s a customer. A rude, loud, self-entitled customer, but still a customer. You really don’t know what to do. You already tried offering her a different type of muffin or a double chocolate cookie instead but she refused. You can’t exactly ask her to leave. Or can you? You start to wonder how mad Jane would be if you asked a customer to leave right when an arm comes down around your shoulders and an all too familiar voice rings out next to your ear.

“Sorry for the delay ma’am. Here’s your muffin and coffee.”

She smiles in a proud-of-herself sort of way, accepts the order and drops a five on the counter. You let out a sigh of relief when she turns on her heel and marches out of the shop. Latula lightly punches your shoulder then disappears in the back room. She hadn’t even taken her coat of yet and she’d dropped her skateboard at the door. This certainly wasn’t the first time she’d saved your ass.

The three teenagers that had been patiently waiting place an order for three chocolate pudding fills cupcakes. They’re extremely polite and after they leave you find a twenty stuffed into the tip jar. You hate jerky customers, like that woman, who treat you like garbage but for every bad person you encounter there’s fifty nice customers right behind them. Latula, having traded in her coat for her apron, starts bringing things out of the kitchen and putting them on display. With the two of you working together you get through the rush quickly and smoothly and without another hiccup. There’s a moment of peace and you take that moment to thank her.

“Hey doll, thanks for helping me back there. That woman was getting on my nerves.”

“Don’t sweat it. I guess I’ve just got pretty radical timing.”She’s wiping down the counter where some coffee was spilled and looks over her shoulder to send you a smile.

Jane emerges from the kitchen with icing on her cheek and flour on her apron. Her hair is a little less neat than it was before and there’s a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She sighs and leans against the counter, looking around the mostly empty shop.

“Well that was eventful.” She says.

“Sorry we got a little slowed down.” You apologize, focusing on the display of shortbread like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Don’t worry about it. Things ended alright. Actually, we’ll probably be pretty slow for the rest of the afternoon. Why don’t you head on home, Rufioh?”

“You sure? I can hang around until my shift is over.”

“Yea, we’ll be fine. It’s only another ten minutes until two anyway and I’m sure you want to get home to check on your guest.”

“Guest?” Latula asks, lifting herself up onto the counter and swinging her legs.

“I’ll tell you about that later, doll. See you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye!” They both ring out as you head into the back room.

You put on your coat and check for your keys before you look at your phone. Meulin never responded. You’ll text her when you get home, let her know you’re off work and she can come over when she’s ready. You aren’t sure what you’re going to do when you get home if he’s still there. When would be an appropriate time to ask him to leave? Should you even ask him to leave? When it comes down to it you really feel bad for him. You can’t just kick him out in the cold. Especially when it’s going to start snowing soon.

When you’re standing outside of your apartment you hesitate. You can hear a TV faintly through the walls. Your TV? Did he forget to turn it off? It could always be one of your neighbors but suddenly you find yourself feeling hopeful. Your fingers shake a little and you struggle to put your key in the lock. You take a deep breath (why are you so nervous?) and the door swings open to reveal Kurloz and Meulin sitting on your couch, facing each other and signing. Their hands are moving too quickly for you to make anything out. As soon as you’re inside Kurloz’s eyes fall on you and he smiles and points his finger toward you. Meulin turns to you and waves enthusiastically. You wave back and force a tiny smile. You shouldn’t have to force a smile but you’re not feeling particularly happy right now.

Meulin quickly signs something to Kurloz then follows you into the kitchen and grabs the dry erase board off the fridge. The cap skitters across the counter as she tosses it aside and begins to write. Since you don’t sign very well the two of you have taken to communicating through writing. That’s the only reason you have the dry erase board stuck to the fridge to begin with. Though it does come in handy for grocery lists and reminders. She taps your shoulder to get your attention and holds up what she’s written.

_“HOW WAS WORK?”_

You take the board from her, erase what she wrote with a paper towel and scribble your reply.

_“1t was ok…had to deal w1th a rude costumer…got a sweet t1p from some k1ds though.”_

_“WELL I’M GLAD TO S33 YOU’RE STILL ALIVE!”_

_“yea 1 guess 1 jumped to conclus1ons”_

_“PURLOZ IS VERY NICE! HE TOLD ME THAT YOU HELPED HIM. YOU’RE A REALLY GREAT PERSON RUFIOH!”_

_“…thanks doll”_

She pats your shoulder, recaps the marker and heads back toward the living room with the dry erase board still in hand. You were going to grab something to eat but you’re suddenly not very hungry. You fill a glass with water and take it into the other room. They’re signing again. Even if you understand half of what they’re saying you can’t pick it up with how quickly their fingers are moving. You sit on the love seat and watch them. You wonder if Kurloz has been mute all his life. People can go mute later in life, right? What would his voice sound like? He’s pretty tall, a little thin but appears to be hiding somewhat muscular arms under his hoodie. You think he’d have a rather deep voice. Very soothing and nice to hear. The kind of voice people like to listen to when falling asleep.

Meulin is waving the dry erase board around and both are staring at you when you snap out of your reverie. You’re not sure how long you were just staring, lost in your own thoughts, watching them have their silent conversation. You really hope you weren’t staring at Kurloz, and if you were you hope he didn’t notice. Meulin is still waving around the board so you focus on the written words.

_“I’VE GOT TO RUN. TEXT ME THIS WEEKEND!”_

You simply nod your head as she stands, slips into her coat and waves goodbye. You follow her to the door and lock it when she’s gone. You feel foolish for being glad that she’s gone. You feel like a kid who made friends with the new boy in class. You found him first. Meulin can’t just come in and take your new friend because she can communicate with him in a way that you can’t. You’re not usually the jealous type so this is new to you and you’re feeling a little pathetic.

You turn back to Kurloz, who is back to watching the screen. He’s watching The Breakfast Club and has curled himself up into a blanket cocoon on one end of the couch. You cross the room and sit beside him, battling with your conscience and your common sense. He looks so comfortable bundled up on the couch and smiling at the screen while the characters enter a dance montage. You’d expected him to leave while you were out of the house, and he didn’t. Why? Was he reluctant to go out into the cold or was he just so comfortable he forgot he was a temporary guest. You wonder when he’ll feel like he’s worn out his welcome. Which, as far as you’re concerned, will be never. You finally reach your decision, sighing and trying to sit back and look more relaxed.

“Hey, Kurloz. Mind if we talk for a minute?” You ask, worrying that you sound a bit awkward.

He turns his attention to you and nods. You feel bad for distracting him from his movie but this isn’t something you can really put off. Eventually night will come and you’ll both be faced with the question, does he stay or does he go? You clear your throat, suddenly in need of a drink. Your mouth feels dry, and this is definitely an overreaction.

“I know the deal was for you to crash here last night. But, uh, it’s cold out, ya know? And it’s only going to get colder. It might even snow this weekend. I can’t in good conscience send you back out there to tough out the winter. I’d constantly be worrying about what’s happening to you. Are you cold? Are you hungry? Did something bad happen?” You drag a hand back through your hair, leaving it sticking up at all angles. “I know that’s probably silly since we’ve barely known each other twenty-four hours. Basically, I’m offering to let you stay here for the rest of winter. It isn’t perfect but it’s warm and I always have food. Truth be told, I kind of like having the company.”

You’re kind of afraid to look at him. He could be silently laughing, giving you a look that says “you’re an idiot” or shaking his head no.

“You don’t have to answer now. Think it over. Sleep on it. I’m not going to throw you out. So, just stay until you’re ready to go.”

Something touches the side of your forearm and you look down to see the dry erase board leaning against your thigh. He’s fidgeting with the marker when you chance a glance at him. It’s impossible to read his expression with his bangs covering most of the tops of his eyes. The letters are a little messy from being hastily written and cramped from the limited space on the board.

_You’d really let the motherfucker stay here? Why are you being so damn nice to me? I can’t offer anything in return_

“I just can’t leave you out there all winter. I’d feel terrible. You don’t have to give me anything in return. Except maybe keep your no murdering promise.” You try to smile and catch a turn of his lips in your peripheral. “If you’re willing to call me a friend, then consider it crashing with a friend for a while. That’s what I did when I first came here. I was on Dirk’s couch for four months before I was able to move out and give him back his living room. If it weren’t for him I’d probably have been in your shoes.”

He wipes away the old words with the sleeve of his hoodie before scribbling out his response and handing the board back to you.

_I want to stay. If that’s motherfucking ok. I’ll clean and cook and shit to make it up to you._

Well damn, if he’s a good cook then maybe this will work out well! You both nod your heads in agreement and sit back to watch the rest of the movie.

When it’s over you watch The Hunger Games together then he claims the shower while you make dinner for the two of you. You have to lend him a pair of pajamas since he doesn’t have anything else to wear. You’ve just finished cookie when he emerges from the bathroom in pajamas pants that are just a little too short and a shirt that is hanging off one shoulder. You’ll definitely have to take him shopping soon. He’s just a bit taller than you and skinnier. Your clothes will do for tonight and maybe for a run to the thrift store tomorrow. You both sit on the floor at the coffee table and pop in the first disc of season one of Game of Thrones. You’re quiet while you eat and watch. You’ll occasionally tell him things about the show and he keeps the dry erase board and marker between your plates on the table in case he wants to say anything.

It’s weird, having someone else around. But it’s also comfortable. You didn’t know you could feel this relaxed eating dinner and watching TV with a practical stranger. But you do. It’s nice and it feels normal and there’s nothing wrong with that.


End file.
